Je Ne Sais Quoi
by Ava Chanel
Summary: There's just something about the martial artist that no one can quite put their finger on…Drabbles focusing on Tifa Lockhart and her interactions with each of the Dissidia cast members. May contain 012 spoilers. 007: Warrior of Light posted.
1. 001 Cloud: Fornicatio

**A/N: **_You saw this coming…_

_We simply fit together like a piece of apple pie,  
I will be vanilla ice cream,  
And I'll sing you lullabies,  
I will love you in the moonlight and I'll love you in the day,  
Always…_

_Song by Colbie Caillat, "Stay With Me" _

**Summary: **There's just something about the martial artist that no one can quite put their finger on…Drabbles focusing on Tifa Lockhart and her interactions with each of the Dissidia cast members. May contain 012 spoilers.

**Warning: **May contain Dissidia 012 spoilers. Read at your own risk.

**Je Ne Sais Quoi **

**001: **

_**Cloud-Lust**_

It was the first time anything like this had happened.

Coming face to face with a warrior of Cosmos, preparing to battle his proposed enemy wasn't supposed to feel this way.

He had disciplined himself, conquered his fears and doubts. He had thought them defeated, so whence he headed into battle, he was calm and collected. He was devoid of emotions, he felt nothing. Or, at least, he had thought so.

But one look at her was all it took to break him, shatter his resolve.

She stood tall and proud, not ashamed of who she was or what she was fighting for. Her delicate features contradicted his own; where he lacked feeling, she showed compassion. Where he proved emptiness, she displayed vigor for life. Where he pushed contentment in what his task consisted of, she shone with faith; faith in her allies and in her motives. Ruby tinted eyes gleamed as much.

But it went deeper than that. There had been other females before her, each beautiful in their own respect. Yet, none could hold a candle to the dark haired beauty before him. And not a one would have ever been able to evoke so much emotion in him. As if in response, a growing hunger gnawed at him from deep within his loins. It was ferocious, beastly and it spread like a toxin throughout his body.

Long strands of chocolate tresses fell to the small of her back, tickling the edge of her ever short skirt. Porcelain skin and the smooth curve of her exposed stomach egged the beast further on, fueling it. She had a strong figure, lean arms and legs that would serve her as a lethal weapon. Yet, it was her feminine attributes that proved to be most destructive for the ever anxious observer.

Small, pink lips, shaped in the form of a ribbon, were set in a line of determination and those elusive ruby colored eyes which were framed with a thick fringe of dark, lustrous lashes, watched him the same as he watched her. The battle was no longer physical; he did not need his buster sword to fight off his own demons.

Yet she, she was oblivious to it. Unfazed by what her very presence was doing to him. It was taking up all of his willpower to keep his composure. He would not allow himself to become so flustered around his enemy.

And yet, as his azure eyes travelled the length of her body, the beast could not help but growl in fierce defiance as he took in the curves of her ample breasts and then, the way that her skirt fit snugly against her hips, shaping her form. Yet again, she seemed not to notice the affect she was having on the swordsman before her.

He couldn't understand the emotion that she was evoking in him, couldn't comprehend any of it and yet here she was, completely unperturbed by it all. It was evident that she was not having a similar reaction to him as he was to her.

Nonetheless, she put down her angry fists and they transformed back into delicate fingers, fingers none would suspect could curl up into such a fury of vicious attacks. Her mouth relaxed and the determination and worry eased away from her, like an aura that simply slipped off of her. She tucked away a piece of her chocolate colored hair behind her ear and then looked at her opponent in a familiar way. Soft and gentle, it was as if she had conceded to defeat.

And when she spoke, her voice caressed him in such a way, leaving his skin on fire and his mouth dry. It soothed his soul and yet, caused his body to feel as if it were engulfed by flame, granting access for the beast to devour him whole. Her words held little meaning; all he needed was to hear her voice. It was all it took to push him over the edge. Suddenly, he could recall the name to this emotion, this feeling she so violently brought out of him.

One syllable and yet, so many definitions. So many ways of saying it, of feeling it. Perhaps, at some point in his life, he had been familiar with it. But when it came anew, it remained fresh and as strong as the next whip that would be cracked against the flesh.

The word, the feeling, the beast named itself…Lust.

* * *

**A/N: **_Short, simple and with a touch of spoilers. I have big plans for this. Figured I'd try out Cloud first since interactions between him and Tifa are rather notorious and a little easier to write without the current game being released just yet. Any type of feedback is welcome. _


	2. 002 Kain: Avaritia

**A/N: **_Appreciate all the R&R I got from everyone. :) As well as the faves and alerts! Thanks, guys. Chapter Two for all who have been waiting, in honour of the game being released soon (in Canada, anyways)!_

"_Clutching my cure,  
I tightly lock the door,  
I try to catch my breath again,  
I hurt much more,  
Than anytime before,  
I had no options left again..."_

_Song by Linkin Park, "Breaking the Habit"_

**Summary: **There's just something about the martial artist that no one can quite put their finger on…Drabbles focusing on Tifa Lockhart and her interactions with each of the Dissidia cast members. May contain 012 spoilers.

**Warning: **May contain Dissidia 012 spoilers. Read at your own risk.

**Je Ne Sais Quoi**

**002:**

**Kain-Greed**

_In a world full of questions, they pause and discuss the colours of the windows to the soul..._

She reminded him of someone...

He couldn't really understand whom, since there were gaping holes where his memories once used to be. But he was certain that there was something utterly familiar about her. It must have been why he had chosen to save her, instead of allowing Ultimecia to finish the job. He could think of no other reason why for his sudden action.

It had been a reflex, an instinct he had acted upon. Protecting her simply felt natural. It was the only thing he was absolutely certain of out of all the other things he had done.

"You're awfully quiet, Kain." She observed him with brilliant eyes the shade of ruby stone glittering in sunlight.

He looked away; grateful for the helmet he wore that obscured most of his face. Still, she stared up at him as if she could see through it, as if she could read him like an open book. He felt so conflicted and unsure of himself. He was angry and he was spiteful and yet, he could not bear to allow any harm to come to this vigilant female who seemed to have trouble following her wherever she went.

Why?

What was so special about her that he could not bring himself to simply be rid of her? Certainly, she was nothing but a hassle, an extra weight for him to carry on his shoulders. And yet, here they were, travelling together as companions and comrades. She had insisted upon it and he had found it so difficult to argue with her. Yet, there was a part of him that did not want to argue, a part of him that liked her company and wanted to have her nearby.

Despite his sins, despite his faults, this naive girl still trusted him and more so, with her very life. He was astounded by her brash actions, perplexed by her unquestionable motives. She so blindingly followed her path, so certain of what she was doing and completely fearless when it came to the dangers she faced. For when she was caught staring into the eyes of the witch who had been ready to end her life, Tifa Lockhart did not look like a woman ready to die.

It was that courage of hers that sent him in to her rescue, as if a memory triggered where another woman had once been compromised because of his actions.

Kain Highwind stared at the ground, deep in thought, analyzing his heart and desperately trying to recall the memories he had lost.

There was movement next to him and she was suddenly a lot closer. Gentle fingers grasped his jaw and forced his head in her direction.

"Hey, why won't you look at me?"

That simple contact, the feel of her skin on his, the way she sat looking up at him with a tenderness that he was so unfamiliar with. No one would have shown him such kindness and such compassion upon knowing of his misdeeds. No one would have cared if he perished because of those sins.

But she did and it puzzled him.

He looked into her face, searching for an answer. Her hands moved, travelling up his cheeks. Cool fingers leaving a trail against his skin. Her eyes stared into the helmet, where his own would have been. She looked at that spot while her hands continued to move until they left his face and began to fiddle with his helmet.

In a slow and fluid movement, the helmet came off of him and he allowed her to do it. He closed his eyes as soon as they were exposed but there was nothing he could do about the escape of his long, wheat coloured hair that fell down to his shoulders. She discarded the notorious piece of armour and, even with eyes closed, he could feel her watching him. Perhaps she was as bedazzled by him as he was of her.

"Open your eyes."

It was more of a command than a request and, even then, he found himself following her orders, like a puppet to its master. His eyelids fluttered open, and he looked at her through his own naked eyes for the first time. He would have never allowed anyone else to do such an intimate thing. He would have killed instead than have allowed anyone to have performed such an action. But again, he found himself breaking his own rules without question when it came to the female martial artist.

She was searching the newly revealed planes of his face with astonishment. Her eyes widened and her small mouth remained open in awe. What was she so fascinated with?

Finally gathering her bearings, she leaned in closer, invading his space and then spoke; "Amethyst."

She smiled to herself and nodded once.

He found her statement strange, and so he questioned her, "Amethyst?"

Her smile widened and she nodded again before replying, "Yes. Your eyes, they're the colour of amethyst. I've been curious about it for a while now."

She brought a single finger up to her bottom lip and gazed off to the side. Then, she turned her focus on him and gave a cheeky smile, mischief evident in the way she looked at him.

"You see, we were talking about it; what colour are Kain's eyes, do you think? And then, we had this little kerfuffle about it because we all disagreed. Lightning said grey because she thinks you're dull as hell, her own words I swear. Vaan said they were a hazel green colour because he thinks you're more emotional than you let on. Either way, it became a debate and...Well, we may have all placed a wager on it, is what I'm trying to get at. You're not mad are you?"

She rambled on, avoiding his eyes the whole time she did so. The guilt over the childishness of the entire thing was making her blush when she explained it to him. He watched her with a mild curiosity. It certainly was immature of them and rather irritating. But truthfully, he could have cared less of what the others thought of him. What really mattered was...

"What did you think?" He countered, watching her colourful expressions change when he posed the question.

She was caught off guard by his response and seemed to stutter as she searched for the right thing to say.

"Huh? Oh, you mean what colour did I think they were?"

He nodded and then his gaze followed her finger as she twisted and bound a long piece of dark hair to it.

"Blue..."

He raised a fair eyebrow in question and waited for her to elaborate. The hair fell in a wave from around her finger and then she picked it up again and attempted to curl it once more. She avoided his eyes when she spoke.

"Not just any plain blue. You know how the sky looks after it's rained and there's usually a rainbow shortly after? It's a certain shade of blue that I can't really describe as well as I can just visualize. But anyways, I picked that blue because...well, because it's like the calm after the storm..."

A tinge of red paints her porcelain cheeks before she presses on, "When I look at you, that's how you make me feel. You look like you're in the middle of a violent storm the way you seem so conflicted but...I don't know. I still think there's a part of you that longs for that calmness in a sky after the worst has ended. And that's how I thought your eyes would look. Calm, trusting and endless..."

She finally looked at him and she is so sincere with her heart on her sleeve that he is overcome with a powerful emotion, a fierceness. It is so sudden, so unexplained and yet, overwhelms him entirely. He has decided, after so much thought and confusion, exactly what he would do from now on.

He would protect _her_ to the ends of time, to his last breath.

He would fight with _her_, for _her_, for as long as he was alive.

He would forgive his sins if she could forgive them.

He would kill any who tried to take this wonderful morsel of a girl from him.

She smiled up at him, still blushing from what she has confessed, unaware of the turmoil going on inside of the man before her. But she isn't finished with setting his heart on fire.

"But amethyst...now that I think about it, it really does suit you. Actually, they're even prettier than I imagined. Still, they are endless and...It's hard _not_ to trust you when I look into them..."

It's all he can take. His body moves before he even thinks of the action. But his arms are around her now and he has her pressed against his chest. She doesn't say anything and neither does he. His fingers find themselves coiled within her long, chocolate tresses and he takes in her scent, breathing it in like a breath of fresh air. Holding her in this way, having her so close to him, reminds him of a place he once called 'home'.

Memories of another woman, so familiar and so similar to the girl he has embraced, flood his mind. Emotions come in waves as a piece of his memory returns to him. But, of all the feelings, of every secret he has held in his heart, he recalls only the most powerful of them all...

_Greed_.

* * *

**A/N: **_Living in Canada, I don't have my paws on the game yet. So I apologize if this makes no sense but understand that due to shipment issues, Canada still hasn't gotten Duodecim (sadly) so bear with me. Anyways, I adore the Kain x Tifa pairing and I'll probably write a lot more of them later on. Feedback of any kind is welcomed! :) Thanks._


	3. 003 Sephiroth: Ira

**A/N: **_Wow! Thanks for all the amazing support, guys. That includes reviews, faves and alerts! :) There will definitely be more of the Kain x Tifa interactions in upcoming chapters._

"_I'm not a criminal, not a role model,  
Not a born leader, I'm a tough act to follow.  
I am not, the fortune and the fame,  
Nor the same person telling you to forfeit the game.  
I came in the ring like a dog on a chain,  
And I found out the underbelly's sicker than it seems..."_

_Song by Linkin Park, "When They Come For Me"_

**Summary: **There's just something about the martial artist that no one can quite put their finger on…Drabbles focusing on Tifa Lockhart and her interactions with each of the Dissidia cast members. May contain 012 spoilers.

**Warning: **May contain Dissidia 012 spoilers. Read at your own risk.

**Je Ne Sais Quoi**

**003:**

**Sephiroth-Wrath**

_In her, he has found his perfect tool..._

"I don't even know who you are." She states, watching the swordsman with suspicious eyes.

And he does not know her, either.

But it matters not.

She is of light and he is of darkness. The two did not mingle. They ensnared each other. They fought for dominance at all times. One would always long to overcome the other. But, neither would ever succeed, for they could not exist without the other.

And so he watches this girl with his intense eyes, laminated like the jade stone. They were brilliant and yet, one could not ignore the unnatural glow that foreshadowed something sinister lurking in their depths.

The clown had said that the female had come from his world, that she was dear to his comrade, Cloud. He also said that causing harm to her would help him recall his purpose in a past life, in a world he once belonged to. It very well may have been a lie or a farce the clown was using in order to make the warriors of Chaos his pawns to do with as he pleases.

Either way, it is an opportunity Sephiroth cannot bear to ignore. If there is truth to it, then he will be enlightened. If it is all for naught, then at least he can fell yet another loyal warrior of the light. No matter how he looked at it, there was profit to be gained in taking on the seemingly fragile girl. And so, he brandishes Masamune.

The long, thin and very sharp blade gleams in the eerie green light that surrounds the pair of warriors. The girl stares at it, mesmerized. It frustrates him when he notes her lack of fear and he finds himself longing for it. To watch her cower before his mighty blade, to feel her warm and sticky blood against his skin, to taste the metallic flavour of her on his tongue; it sends shivers of anticipation up along his spine.

"Why is that you want to fight me? What's your reason?" She's looking at him now but she remains fearless in the face of Masamune.

"You are a warrior of Cosmos. That is reason enough." He prepares to lunge.

She remains stoic and it infuriates him.

"How disappointing."

Her comment has caught him off guard. He does not take kindly to insults from defenseless little girls. He relaxes his grip on Masamune and decides to participate in their battle of words; it would make breaking her even more pleasurable, he concludes.

"Here I thought I'd be up against one of Chaos' most elite. And what do I get? A weak warrior who doesn't even know why he fights. Face it; you're nothing but a puppet!"

Her words, so familiar and yet so unknown to him, trigger a glimpse of a memory and with it, a painful sting he has not felt before. A piece of his past, a story untold, begins to unravel in his mind. He is aware of it now. He knows how it will play out. He does not know how to break her, but he does know how to _use_ her. And using her is an excellent plan, indeed.

He can feel _him_ coming; one he once considered a comrade.

He knows he is near now, getting ready to prove his traitorous ways.

But it only sets his plan further into motion. It only fuels his rage.

The girl is watching him now with an intense gaze. Eyes the colour of the finest of wines, follow his every move. When Masamune drops to his side, less threatening, she breaks her gaze away and takes notice of his sudden change of heart. But she is not relieved. He concludes that she is smarter than most females he has encountered.

Yet she does not know true fear until he begins to step closer towards her. It starts off small, like a flicker of a flame in the night. But with every step he takes, with each desperate beat of her heart, he can feel it growing and he feeds off of it like a parasite. It thrills him to no end, to watch her squirm in this way. And all he has to do is put one foot in front of the other.

She begins to back up, slowly. Fingers clutch into fists and she's become defensive and prepared. He likes knowing that he has fooled her. It gives him power to know that she is unaware of his intentions, that she cannot read him. His dominance over her is giving him such pleasure.

And soon, he would be even more pleased.

He would satiate himself, using her and _him_; toying with their emotions.

He would feed off of the two from his world in such a way that would leave them both damaged and beyond repair. He would walk away with more of his memories and a stronger will than all the rest.

He refused to be...a puppet.

No, they would be _his_ puppets. And the show they were going to put on would serve as a decent entertainment source.

"Get any closer, and I'll knock you out! I'm warning you!" She screams but the sound, and the words, mean little to him.

He is too strong now.

She is no match for him.

And he proves it by easily overtaking her when he is close enough to touch her.

She throws her fists; he catches them in his deadly grip. Before she even thinks about kicking her legs, he has her knocked down, onto the floor, her back on the cool rock and her exposed skin tingling with goose bumps from the contact. He pins her smaller body down with his own and the weight of him over her is too much for to overcome.

_He _is almost here.

The silver haired warrior must hurry, even though he knows that taking his time with her would have had a greater affect. She tries to fight him off, jerking and desperately wanting to get loose. But the power he feels, the emotion that is fueling it and the memories that tempt him with her full lips cannot be easily defeated. Strands of long, dark hair have spilled around her on the stone floor. It lays still like silk, shining and soft.

When he leans his face in to hers, tendrils of endless silver white hair have converged around them both, mingling with the rich ebony that surrounds her.

Silver and sable.

White and black.

Light and Shadow.

He will conquer her light. He will swallow her in his darkness. And she will enjoy it.

She stops fighting. Her body goes limp, softening underneath him. When his lips crash onto hers, Cosmos and Chaos, neither matter. The feel of her skin, the feel of his body on top of hers; both give in to the cravings of the flesh, as they are, after all, nothing but mortal in this moment.

She is sweet on his tongue and tastes like honey and cherries. He clings to her flavor, taking it in, savoring it and exploring it. She is soft and sensual beneath him. She is nervous and shocked. She is shy but he no longer cares. He is ruining her with his kiss. He is tainting her with his lips. He is smothering her light with his shadows.

Needing and wanting more, he deepens the kiss of death, pressing his lips even harder onto hers, his tongue slipping into the crevasses of her smaller mouth without permission, and dominating her. She whimpers and he knows she'll be fighting him soon enough. But he doesn't need to pull away to know that his target, the fair haired swordsman, Cloud Strife, is there and watching; an innocent bystander. He didn't need to look upon his face to see the hurt, to witness the rage in his expression.

He needn't stop his ministrations only to gaze upon Cloud and watch while he puzzled over his own feelings for a girl that he has just met. He already knows. And yet, here they were.

He nibbles on the tender flesh of her bottom lip and suckles on it, enjoying the final taste of her that he can get. He tugs at it as he moves away, shifting his weight from on top of her so that she was no longer pinned down to the ground. Finally, he lets go of her mouth and dances his tongue across his lips, savoring the flavor that is her. She lies there, unmoving.

When he gazes into her eyes, he knows he has it; what he had set out to do.

There is no more fear. There is only hatred; pure and complete hatred and it shows in the way she glares at him.

He stands and, for the first time in a long time, Sephiroth smiles down upon his prey, his puppet and his tool.

The feeling that he had recalled from his slumbering memories was sated; his _wrath_ had been unleashed upon those who deserved it, those from his memories, and that was the only victory he needed. Again, he has taken something precious away from the other warriors. And again, he will walk away the winner. For there is no room for a light as bright as hers in the darkness that is his heart.

* * *

**A/N: **_SephTi, another secret, dark fave crack shipping of mine. I hope I did them justice. :) Let me know what you all think! All types of feedback welcomed. Thanks for reading. _


	4. 004 Squall: Superbia

**A/N: **_Thanks for sticking with me! Reading everyone's feedback is very motivating and I very much appreciate all of it. :) So thanks! I've tried replying to everyone but if I haven't, let me apologize in advance. Anyways, here's the latest chapter. Enjoy!_

"_I had a way then losing it all on my own  
I had a heart then but the queen has been overthrown  
And I'm not sleeping now the dark is too hard to beat  
And I'm not keeping now the strength I need to push me..."_

_Song by Ellie Goulding, "Lights"_

**Summary: **There's just something about the martial artist that no one can quite put their finger on…Drabbles focusing on Tifa Lockhart and her interactions with each of the Dissidia cast members. May contain 012 spoilers.

**Warning: **May contain Dissidia 012 spoilers. Read at your own risk.

**Je Ne Sais Quoi**

**004: **

**Squall-Pride**

_ The pride of a lion hinders his success, but she will tame it in a way no one else can..._

He doesn't like fighting.

He'd never dare admit it to anyone, but it remains in his heart, true and defiant.

If given the option to avoid conflict, he'd gladly act upon it but here, in this world, choices that were peaceful seemed limited. And so he fights, despite it all. He knows he is good, and that he is strong. He defeats all who stand in his way with an ease that is unmatched by even many of his companions. And yet, as his blade slices and his gun fires, he rests uneasy. He hates feeling inadequate. But here, he has nothing to prove.

Without his memories, he has lost a motive. He knows not why he fights on, despite his illogical dislike for such a pastime. He _feels_ it is right. Just like how he feels right to be leaving _them_ behind and work on his own. Besides, he was better off alone. Stronger, even; less holding him back.

Less risks to take.

The safer way out.

But he refuses to see it this way. In his mind, he is right simply because he is.

And yet, he doesn't want to be alone.

Another thought he'd never share; one he can hardly accept. He repeatedly tells himself he needs no one; that he'll be fine. He can handle all things that come his way and yes, he will even survive the devastating attack the witch had cursed upon him before taking flight.

But the wound is becoming unbearable and, despite how much he searches and fights, no potion is in sight. He refuses to give up hope but, the more time he wastes, the more severe the pain becomes. He trudges along, fighting as much as he can but, in his weakened state, he winds up taking more and more damage from the weaker manikins and it only makes everything so much worse.

He limps, clutching at his side with bloodied gloved hands, trying his best to stop the wound from festering, but it holds little merit. He slams his gunblade into the hard ground and leans on its handle for support. He's grimacing, biting back a scream that longs to tumble out of his dry mouth. The pain radiates and stings, infecting all of his flesh and his organs. It spreads like a disease and he falls to his knees, still grasping the handle of his precious blade. The chain of the lion's head attached to the gunblade shines silver in the light.

He is on the ground. There is blood staining a large portion of his usually crisp, white shirt. It has also stained the black leather of his jacket and when he draws his hand away, the black leather of his gloves are stained as well with the dark liquid.

He curses under his breath.

He cannot lose this battle.

He may not remember much, but he feels there is a reason to keep fighting.

A reason so dear to him, if only he could recall it.

But he can feel his life force slipping away. He can feel it leak through his wound, worsening with each passing moment. And it is only a matter of time...

Time...

If only he could stop it, slow it.

But he feels dizzy now. Everything spins. The ground underneath him no longer appears solid and it blurs right before his eyes. His hand leaves the grip of his blade and he is on all fours, breaths coming in deep and shallow. The pain is so strong that he can feel it with every desperate beat of his quickening heart. He feels cold and sweaty and it's all he can do to keep from collapsing.

His arms tremble from the effort.

And then he can feel the coolness from the tiles on his face.

His eyes flutter briefly, and then they close for what feels like the last time...

_"Is this...the end?"_

He drifts in emptiness.

He is aware of the pain but it is so far away, now.

And then he feels _her_ hand.

He knows it is her. He needs not to open his eyes to be able to understand this; it is natural. It is right.

Her cool fingers are stroking his cheek lovingly and the sweet smell of her fills him. Her touch is feather light and he knows his head is rested on her lap. He is comfortable like this. He could stay this way forever.

_ "No. You can't. You have someone waiting for you...don't you?" _

Heaven is gone. He is dragged back to reality, kicking and screaming. The pain is suddenly there again and its sharpness is sinister. The gentleness of her touch isn't quite there anymore and he longs for it. But when he opens blurred eyes, he stares into a young woman's face.

Eyes like firey, red sapphire, burn with emotions when he stares into them. Worry. She is worried. Dark brows pinch close together and pink, ribbon shaped lips are pressed tight in a line. Soft tendrils of dark hair float about her porcelain face, framing it perfectly and contrasting so beautifully, it would have taken his breath away under different circumstances.

But the pain.

He winces when he remembers, squinting his eyes in a grimace.

"Hang tight! I've got a potion in here somewhere..."

He lets out a mighty groan and clutches at the blood drenched affected side of his abdomen. He then feels her fingers pry off his hand from the wound. She holds it in her own, squeezing tightly and he can't help but recall a familiarity in the way she does it. The potion is then pressed to his lips and the cool liquid slides down his throat, tickling every one of his nerves and causing him to convulse in her lap. He coughed, almost choking on the terrible bittersweet flavour. But she's removed it now and is instead, hushing him in a soft and tender voice.

He writhes in pain, breaking out into a terrible sweat as his body works together with the healing contents of the potion to instantly target the dangerous cut. He could feel it come working, flesh stitching itself back together again. But it hurts. The damage has gone deeper than he had thought and now he will have to suffer a painful recovery.

It's when she puts cool fingers to his sweaty face that he is able to bring himself to a calm. He is able to escape to that place he had once visited. She cradles him and dark hair surrounds him, like a heavy, shimmering curtain. She's got his aching head placed tightly against her chest and if he focuses and listens carefully enough, he can make out the sound of her heart as it beats against her ribcage.

His body stops moving and his breathing begins to return to normal. She lets go, but slowly. He feels like a fool for missing her nearness. But he feels it all the same.

When next he opens his eyes, he is lying on the ground and she is sitting across from him. He finally is able to see her for whom she is; Tifa Lockhart, martial artist, Cosmos' chosen and...his saviour. When she notices him looking, he glances away, sitting up and focusing on the ground below him instead. Had it all been a bad dream? Those feelings...he wasn't supposed to know them. But she evoked them. She brought them out of him so violently. Yet how could it be when he didn't even know the girl that well? She was definitely not from his world. Still...that detail hadn't stopped her from rescuing him.

"Thank Cosmos you've woken up. I was beginning to think I'd have to go scout out another potion or something..."

He looks at her with hooded eyes but she is so sincere, it becomes a challenge for him. She smiles then, her face lighting up. She's got her arms wrapped around her knees and she cradles herself in the cold. But she shows no sign of complaint.

"How's your wound? No pain, I'm guessing?"

He sighs, closes his eyes. He has no time for her. Whatever it was he felt before, the feelings were gone now, drifting away like a faded memory. He needn't distract himself with this...girl. He didn't like owing her a favour for what she did. He could have managed without her. Now she was going to become a burden; something he did not need. He brings a hand to his forehead as he tries to calm down and cool off his agitation.

But he _was_ feeling better physically; there was no pain anymore and when he shifted on purpose to see if the movement would illicit some form of the aforementioned pain, there was nothing. He was as good as new.

"Quiet one, huh. You know, you could at least say thank you. It wouldn't hurt." She grumbles and brings her head to her legs so that only those burning eyes were visible. They twinkled with a fierce blaze from the light of the fire she had started.

"I didn't need your help." He states nonchalantly and then stands up on his feet, immediately searching the area for his special blade.

"Well, excuse me! How ungrateful!" She cries, standing to her feet as well.

He examines her with a bored expression. This was why he worked alone.

She's angry when she speaks, "Do you really believe one of those manikins would have just walked by you and dropped a potion on you because they'd feel bad? Or do you think a potion would have grown a pair of legs and just walked over to you? How much of an arrogant jerk are you?"

He glares at her, sapphire blue eyes narrowing, "Who are you to judge me? What I do and how I do it is none of your business!"

"I saved your life! The least you can do is show me a little gratitude!"

"I never asked you to do anything for me."

Where was his blade? He wanted out before he had to do anymore talking.

"Oh, the nerve! We're on the same side, aren't we?"

He gives her his back when he spots the silver shine of his gunblade.

"Does that mean so little to you? Would you...would you have abandoned me if I were in your shoes...?"

Her voice has grown soft and it draws his attention. He removes his weapon from the ground and holsters it. He ponders her question...

_No..._

The answer was easy.

He wouldn't have left her to die.

He'd have done his best to save her.

Cosmos, Chaos. Neither would matter. He'd have helped her even if she was the enemy.

And yet, he couldn't get his head around it for his life.

But he couldn't admit to it, either. He couldn't tell her this. His _pride_ was already hurt from needing her help. He couldn't believe he had succumbed to such a level, to think that he'd have died without her. It tore him up inside.

"I wouldn't have really cared..." Is his response.

She is speechless and it's the way he wants it to be.

He has an objective to complete; he didn't have time for her...pointless lectures.

"Squall..." She cooes his name but there is no actual feeling in it.

He turns his head to the side, awaiting her final words. It would be her last chance to say anything to him. He was through with small talk.

"There's something you need to have..."

She's caught his attention. He turns to look at her. She watches the ground, her hands clasped behind her back. When she looks up into his eyes, she does not show how hurt she is by his careless pride. Instead, she slowly brings forth an arm, gingerly moving it in his direction. Her fist begins to unclench and then he sees it.

White.

Pure.

Soft.

Glowing...

A feather.

"I found it when I found you. It was lying there. It didn't make sense to find...one of these in this world. So I assumed it was yours."

He walks towards her, drawn in by the fluffy white that is in the palm of her hand. When he is close, he stares at it and it triggers memories.

Memories of a girl.

Memories of an endless field of flowers.

Memories of someone dear to him.

When he looks into Tifa's face, the resemblance is striking, even though she is not of his past.

"The person waiting for you...is this what you need?"

And so he swallows his pride.

And he gently takes the feather from her.

He slides it somewhere safe and looks up at the ruby eyed girl who is watching him with a curious gaze. He turns his back and begins to walk away. He can feel her behind him, standing still where he has left her, watching his receding figure.

He pauses when he doesn't hear her and then turns around to address her with a serious expression.

"Aren't you coming?"

She is baffled. Her mouth is open and her eyes have widened; he has taken her by surprise and it fills him with an unnamed satisfaction.

"That was your last potion, wasn't it?"

It takes a minute before she registers it but once she does, she can't help but put on a glorious smile. And then she dashes towards him and when he turns around, the corner of his mouth twitches in a smirk he can't seem to be rid of; a small smile he would never let anyone see.

Alas, the lion's pride has been tamed.

* * *

**A/N: **_Pride and Squall...they go hand in hand, no? I did put in some Rinoa x Squall but only because it's totally unavoidable when writing Squall. FF8 was so romance based, there isn't a way around it...Ah well, I think I'll have more fun with this pairing. :)_


	5. 005 Vaan: Gula

**A/N: **_It's been difficult choosing which character for what sin. Hence why this update has taken a bit longer. Anyways, I've chosen the ones who I felt could fit and I'm hoping I don't get into too much disagreement with my readers. Suggestions and opinions are very much welcome, though. :) _

"_Chase distraction of your own existence,  
Keep it clean, clean enough to stab,  
Lick your own wounds, anxious for the next one,  
Cry for more pain, heal what you have..."_

_Song by Holly McNarland, "Numb"_

**Summary: **There's just something about the martial artist that no one can quite put their finger on…Drabbles focusing on Tifa Lockhart and her interactions with each of the Dissidia cast members. May contain 012 spoilers.

**Warning: **May contain Dissidia 012 spoilers. Read at your own risk.

**Je Ne Sais Quoi**

**005:**

**Vaan-Gluttony**

_ Even the most evil of evils are granted beauty in her hands, and he can't help but crave it, like a moth drawn to a fire..._

He knows he shouldn't have done it.

He knows she is going to be upset.

But he couldn't help it.

It was like an instinct, part of who he was. He couldn't explain why he had the urge to keep doing it or why he persisted. If he had only asked, she'd have been generous enough to give it to him. Of this he is sure. And yet he had done it again. He had stolen from her, like the thief he was.

Even when he promised himself he wouldn't do it again, he continues anyways. He steals whatever is most precious to her because he enjoys having something that belongs to her, something she cherishes. It hadn't started out that way. No, in the beginning when he first started stealing from her, he would take the food. Even though he would be full, he was always compelled to take from her stash while she was preoccupied. He would then hide it, storing it away for future purposes. He was never sure if she noticed her food supply was running low, but either way, she never said a word.

He had continued to horde all her goods, especially since she was the designated cook of their party; everything she made tasted like a piece of heaven drifting over his palate. He couldn't help it; he'd over eat, over indulge in the foods she'd make, even with the limited supplies they had. He was almost addicted to it, to the sweet and savory flavors that her delicate fingers had caressed when she cooked.

But this time, it's different. He stole more than just her delicious foods. He had stolen something far more precious to her. Something he knew she would miss.

He had first seen her with it a few days back, while the party was taking a much needed break. She had been alone and had slipped it out of her pocket to stare at it. He couldn't have blamed her; the perfectly circular stone was absolutely mesmerizing. It was the colour of endless black, the deepest night. No light could penetrate through the darkness of that crystal. Upon closer examination though, there were strange and mysterious swirls inside of the small bead, moving about like clouds during a treacherous thunderstorm. He was hypnotized by it when he had first laid eyes upon it.

Even now, as he watches it, he cannot take his eyes off of the mysterious and eerie jewel. It captivates him in a such a way. It draws him in, sucking him into that endless darkness, into the ongoing storm.

"Vaan!"

Her voice brings him out of the trance and he shakes his head, trying to recover from it. But before he can even act, she has snatched the crystal out of his hands and holds it in the palm of her own. She then clutches it and looks over at him. He does not know how to act. He does not know what to say to her. He is caught red handed and he feels like a child awaiting his punishment. He does not look up; he cannot meet the eyes that remind him of a blood colored sky while the sun sets. Instead, he watches his feet, trying hard to go to a place where he does not need scolding and is not treated like such an incompetent youth.

But she remains quiet. She does not speak. And then she takes a seat next to him on the grass. She hugs her legs and rests her small chin on her knees, staring out at the endless and beautiful plains of a world they are trying so hard to save. He looks the other way, wisps of his silver hair blocking his view of her. He feels guilt. He feels like a traitor. And yet, he longs to have it back. He longs to take all she has and keep it for himself. He does not regret what he has done for he would do it again given the opportunity.

So how can he look at her?

How can he apologize when he does not mean it?

"I had it when I first woke up in this world."

When she speaks, she is not angry, she is not spiteful. Instead, she is Tifa Lockhart, the warm hearted martial artist that he has come to know and appreciate. A comrade he would trust his life with despite the short span of time he has come to know her. His immense trust in her is frightening.

He looks at the grass that tickles the heels of her crimson combat boots and he can see the exposed flesh of her ankles. He cuts a blade of grass and begins to toy with it with roughened and calloused fingers. She continues.

"I...I don't really know what it is exactly. Like you, I have no memories of my home. No memories of my world, of those I loved, if I loved at all."

"Don't you hate it? Not knowing?" He asks, his voice timid.

She chuckles and her laugh is soothing and sweet, just like the cakes he had stolen from her the other day.

"I guess it isn't the greatest feeling to suffer from amnesia. But, sometimes I wonder if it's better that way. Maybe we don't want to know who we were and what we did..."

When he looks at her, he notices she has the black crystal in between her fingers and is staring at it with a look in her eyes he cannot forget. There is so much raw emotion in them, so much pain. Even without her memories, Tifa Lockhart's eyes always have a lurking sadness in their depths, of one who has suffered greatly in the past. Perhaps she was right to choose forgetfulness. Perhaps the past is unpleasant and will only reveal hurt and tragedy. Then, ignorance is truly bliss.

"You have a point..." he says, staring off into the endless sky, his eyes naturally drawn to the pure white tower that pierces the heavens, their current destination.

"I know about the food." She says after a few minutes of silence.

He scratches the back of his head abashedly. Again, he does not know what to say. He had a feeling that the martial artist had been aware of his thieving ways. But he hadn't anticipated her to call him out on it.

"Don't worry, Vaan. I'm not upset with you. I knew you were doing it from the beginning." She says, her smile obvious from the tone of her voice.

"So why didn't you stop me? How come you didn't yell at me? Or tell the others?" He asks.

She doesn't stop smiling, "It isn't a big deal, really. It's just food. I'd have given it to you if you asked, too. But I figured this was your way of going about it so I just let it be."

He watches her carefully now, wondering what makes this woman so optimistic and kind to a man who is stealing from her everything he can.

"You mean...you knew and you just let me take it?" He poses this question innocently.

She nods once and then snickers, "Well, the food anyways. I wasn't expecting you to steal my materia. Because, trust me, I wouldn't have let you do that."

"Materia?"

She pauses and then looks at the glittering ball in her hand, lost in thought.

"Yeah...materia. That's what we call this, where I come from."

They both watch it, perplexed by the never ending swirls that move about inside.

"So you do remember some things..." He tosses the blade of grass he had been playing with, off to the side.

She sighs, "I woke up knowing nothing. But now, after fighting the manikins and spending more and more time in this world, pieces of it are coming back to me. Slowly, but they are coming back."

She looks at him again, her expression sincere when she asks him, "What about you? Do you remember anything?"

"Nope. Not a thing." He shakes his head, no.

"Don't worry. I'm sure some things will come back to you eventually. Whether you'll like it or not...I can't tell, though."

There is more silence as the wind blows, whipping the grass and her hair, the color of ebony silk.

"I do want to ask you, though..."

"Hm?"

"I'm sort of curious about why you steal from me."

Her question catches him off guard because he truly does not understand why he does it. He knows why he stole her little jewel and he figures he steals her food because of how it tastes and makes him feel. Yet, he doesn't know why he steals in general and, specifically, why he is driven to steal from her, of all his comrades.

"I guess I don't really know." He confesses.

"Huh."

The wind blows cool and chilly and she shivers next to him. He'd offer her something to warm her up but he has nothing...

"Maybe you steal because that's what you did in your own world."

Her words hit him hard, so sudden and yet, filled with possibility.

"You think I was a thief in my own world, too? But Zidane is the thief, not me."

He is getting defensive; he does not want to be branded a thief, and he does not want her to think of him that way. He believes it paints him in a negative light.

"Well, Zidane made it a profession. Maybe you...," She pauses and turns her gaze onto him, "Maybe you stole food. Maybe you stole things you _needed_, not treasures exactly."

He contemplates this. It makes sense. A thief who stole what he needed. Like food. This explained why he always stored it away and why he needed an excess of it.

"Hm, I think you're on to something there, Tifa."

She grins and says, "Hey, it's just a guess. Don't look too much into it. But...I mean, why else would you keep stealing from me, right?"

_Because he is enchanted by her._

He ignores the thought and smiles. She gets up, brushing her clothes clean from any possible dirt. He watches her and puzzles over what she has revealed to him.

"Well, it's a lovely view here and all but, if we keep on lingering, there won't be a view for us to see. So we better get a move on. Manikins await us."

She extends a hand to him and he stares at it. He smiles brightly then and clasps it, using her help to get back up on his own two feet.

"Let's go." She begins walking, giving him her back.

"Hey, Tifa?"

She pauses and then turns to him, still wearing a bright smile that he has grown so used to. He rests his arms behind his head and, before he even speaks, she throws something in his direction. With his quick reflexes, he is able to catch the object she has given to him. He opens his hand and stares at the swirls of the black jewel she calls 'materia'. He watches it as it sucks away all light and devours it into utter blackness. He then looks at her and she mock salutes him.

"Keep it. Something to remember me by when you go back home."

"But, don't you think you might need it for when you go home? It might be important to your world, y'know."

She's still smiling but now she has her hands clasped behind her back.

"Nah. It's not real, anyways. It's completely useless. Knowing this world, it's probably just a replica of the actual thing. Now, let's head back to the others. I believe Laguna has my pack and there's some pretty yummy and fresh honey cakes I made that you didn't manage to steal yet!"

She dashes off then, leaving him behind to his own thoughts and confusion. The crystal is still in his hand and he keeps it. He stuffs it inside of his pocket and is happy to know it is there.

_Stealing what he needs..._

He smiles as he figures out why he wanted what was hers so badly; why he craves things that she touches or owns. She, unknowingly, revealed it to him.

What he needed was something of hers to hold onto when they finished with this world. He wanted to remember her and their journey. And so he had stolen, he had filled himself up with what she touched, the food she made. In an effort to keep her, he ate all she made. His greatest sin; gluttony...

Gluttony, for her.

* * *

**A/N: **_I think Vaan was a bit OOC and I apologize about that. I swore I wasn't going to do that but...I've rewritten this so many different ways and nothing worked better than this. Well, enjoy! :) Next chapter should be up soon. All feedback welcome. :) Oh, and to answer a question; I will be doing a chapter for every Dissidia character (or I'll at least try to). That includes the female cast as well. :)  
_


	6. 006 Onion Knight: Sloth

**A/N: **_Thanks to all readers following this story. :) I appreciate all of it; the reviews, the faves, alerts and even the silent reader. :) I know many are requesting to see some girls in this and I promise I will get to it! But I have a lot of this planned out, so bear with me. _

"_Childhood living is easy to do,  
The things you wanted I bought them for you,  
Graceless lady, you know who I am,  
You know I can't let you slide through my hands..."_

_Song by Rolling Stones, "Wild Horses"_

**Summary: **There's just something about the martial artist that no one can quite put their finger on…Drabbles focusing on Tifa Lockhart and her interactions with each of the Dissidia cast members. May contain 012 spoilers.

**Warning: **May contain Dissidia 012 spoilers. Read at your own risk.

**Je Ne Sais Quoi **

**006: **

_**Onion Knight-Sloth**_

_She grants him a power greater than knowledge..._

All of his calculations told him what he needed to do. There was no use in fighting. The battle was to be long and drawn out and the only thing to do that would achieve victory was to bide his time. He would wait for the elimination of the others and then, when the opportunity was ripe, he would attack. Besides, he was no use to Cosmos dead. In this way, he stood more of a fighting chance, taking out the weakened remnants of Chaos' heathens.

And so, the Onion Knight waited and did nothing. Something in the back of his mind tugged at him, though. Almost as if it were guilt. That perhaps this action of his was cruel to his comrades who would fall because he would not help. He shook his head furiously and told himself that it was for the greater good that he did this; so that the cycle would end and that all his friends would finally get to go home.

He fought off manikins when he could to nurture his strength but he never went out of his way to seek the stronger ones. As a matter of fact, if he would see an opponent stronger than him, he would flee from battle, thinking it wiser to conserve his energy rather than spend it. He collected valuable items and stored them away for later use. He had quite a stock of healing spells and potions and the like. He would be good and ready for the final showdown.

So for now, he would do nothing. He simply lay in a field, far away from any roaming and curious manikins and relaxed. At one point, he had dozed off into a peaceful slumber, listening to nothing but the eerie sounds of the world he was in. He had no dreams or anything. But he was rather rudely awakened.

"Are you seriously sleeping at a time like this?" A female voice asked.

When he did not respond and tried to ignore the voice, he received a light pinch on his arm and as a result, he shot right up. He rubbed the area and cried, "Ow! What did you do that for?"

He looked up into his assailant's ruby red eyes and paled when he noticed who it was. The older woman was frowning down at him, her lips in a tight line and her hands at her hips. She was glowering down at him.

"How can you be asleep when there are so many manikins and the warriors of Chaos are wandering around in search of fresh meat?" She shouted again.

The Onion Knight backed up as he realized he was getting a lecture from a very pretty, young woman.

"Y-you're Tifa, right?" He asked hesitantly, recalling the brunette beauty from the gathering at Cosmos' throne.

She flexed her gloved hands and said, "Yeah. You're lucky I'm on your side! If I were a warrior for Chaos, you'd have been done for by now!"

He gulped. He wanted to argue but the woman was correct. He hadn't planned to fall asleep. It sort of just...happened. Still, it had been careless of him and she had a point. He sighed and stood up, only reaching the woman's exposed mid riff when he did.

"So what exactly are you doing here anyways? There aren't any portals and there are definitely no crystals here. Shouldn't you be off trying to find your own crystal?" She asked as her composure relaxed.

He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to tell her. Instinct told him to lie but she had caught him red handed. It was worth a try, anyways. Anything was better than the truth. For some reason, he didn't want to disappoint her. And he knew that the truth would most certainly disappoint her.

"I-I was just taking a break, you know. Planning my next move! You've gotta be cautious. Can't go barging into battle ill prepared, right?" He explained.

She eyed his stash of collected goods and raised an eyebrow, "You look pretty prepared to me. You've got enough potions and spells to last you a lifetime over there."

His cobalt blue eyes darted from side to side as he desperately tried to think of a quick and witty response that would save him from revealing his true intentions. But if he was so confident in his knowledge, why was he so ashamed of admitting to it? It was silly. And so, he looked the woman in the eyes and said, "That was a lie. I'm biding my time. All my calculations and research has indicated to me that we have a better chance of winning once the numbers have dwindled on Chaos' side. This way, we'll have one man up on them in the end; me."

For a moment, Tifa stood still and watched him with bewildered eyes and the onion knight did not know what to expect. He had seen the lady in battle and she was one fearsome opponent. Part of him was glad she was on his side; he didn't think he'd be able to beat her in battle if she had played for Chaos.

And then she crouched down to his level and met his gaze directly, eyes the colour of fine wine boring and searching his.

When she spoke, her voice was soft and small, "Is that really...how you feel about it?"

Feel?

How _did _he feel?

He felt guilt. That was what he felt. He felt as if he were betraying his friends in some way. He felt that what he was actually doing was avoiding his own fear of losing. And so, he became a sloth and procrastinated what was only inevitable.

Good thing his feelings didn't matter when it came to actual facts and calculations.

"Yes." He nods, firm in his beliefs.

Tifa sighed and closed her eyes for a moment.

"So, if I was in some sort of major trouble and you saw me losing against a warrior for Chaos out there in the field while you hid here...you wouldn't help me?" She asked, tilting her head to the side and causing long strands of chocolate brown hair to move with her.

His eyes widened but he didn't know how to respond. She continued, "You're supposed to be a knight, right? So isn't it your duty to help a girl out if she's in trouble? Isn't that what you do? Help people who need you? Fight bravely and gallantly for the sake of good and justice, no matter the outcomes?"

He fels ashamed now. Not just guilty, but ashamed. He prided himself with his title, adorned it and loved it and here he was, mocking it by being a coward and hiding.

"Yes, of course." He admits.

She smiled at him now and he couldn't help but think it's one of the prettiest smiles he's ever seen.

"Then be my knight in shining armor." She said before planting a gentle kiss on his soft cheek.

He felt his face go aflame at the tenderness of her soft lips pressed against his skin. He wanted to say something but again, he didn't know what. Tifa stood up straight again and stretched.

"Well, I don't know about you but there's some ugly manikins out there just begging for a little butt kicking. And I sure can use the training." She said.

Before she would leave, he dashed to his stash of spoiled goods and grabbed as much as he could in his arms. He scurried back to her, noting how she watched him now with mild curiosity.

"Here! Take these. Just to be safe." He said with a large smile.

She eyed the items and then looked back at him, "Are you sure? I mean, that's your stuff, little knight."

He blushed at the nickname she'd given him and replied, "Nah, don't worry. I've got tons and they're just sitting here anyways. Besides," He began with a mischievous smile, "I'll get even better stuff when I start taking on Chaos' warriors and their stronger puppets!"

She smiled at him again and it sent his heart into a flutter. She took a few of the items that were in his arms and thanked him.

But as she turned her back and began to leave, he felt that he should be the one who needed to thank _her_ for what she had given him; a reason to fight.

-.-

**A/N: **_This was probably one of the toughest ones I had to come up with. It literally had me blocked for a long time which is why I hadn't updated in forever! I just couldn't think of what to do with the sin of sloth and how to use it with the Onion Knight. Well, after a lot of failed attempts, I think this fits the best. I hope you guys liked it. Any feedback is appreciated! Apologies for such a lengthy delay. But I'm back now, full throttle! :)_


	7. 007 Warrior of Light: Invidia

**A/N: **_Finally figuring out how I want to go with the final deadly sin and who to use for it. I hope you guys enjoy because it's taken quite a lot of creative thinking on my part to figure this all out! Here's the next update on Envy. :) _

"_I'm reaching up towards the heavens,  
but I'm holding onto hell.  
See, facing her in heaven would be far worse than the devil himself..."_

_Song by Justin Nozuka, "Woman Put Your Weapon Down"_

**Summary:**There's just something about the martial artist that no one can quite put their finger on…Drabbles focusing on Tifa Lockhart and her interactions with each of the Dissidia cast members. May contain 012 spoilers.

**Warning:**May contain Dissidia 012 spoilers. Read at your own risk.

**Je Ne Sais Quoi**

**007: **

**Warrior of Light – Invidia**

_He doesn't know what he envies more; her skills as a warrior of Cosmos or the love she gathers from those around her..._

He had to be brave. He had to be strong. Ever vigilant, ever the sign of hope in a desolate place and in the most dire of times. He would be the shining beacon of light for all to see. He would be Cosmos' sword and shield, all her strength. With his last breath, he would die fighting and protecting what he knew to be true. He would never give up. He simply wasn't allowed to. Not even when the lady he fought for believed defeat to be true. For if he gave up, then what would there be left to fight for? Where would the strength go for the next wave of battle? Honour and justice was what he had been taught. It was what he lived by. To take it away was to take away the very essence of who and what he was; a knight of the light.

So how was it that a single female made him doubt everything he believed in? She was dressed like no warrior he had seen before. Neither a mage, nor a knight, she was a stark contrast to everything around him. She was brash and yet feminine at the same time. Her method of fighting was that of a monk but with her own style and flare, leaving him still unable to read her moves. He found it most intriguing. At first, he doubted her skill for she was so delicate looking with her big ruby red eyes and cherry pink lips. But she had been quick to prove her worth to Cosmos and her allies.

He had been the one to test her, as Cosmos had requested. He had brandished his sword against the young female fighter and decided he would go easy on her, as he would have with any woman who looked like her. He had watched and waited for her to whip out her weapon of choice but instead, she had grinned and put up her fists, getting into a stance of a martial artist.

"Don't be gentle with me. It could be your biggest mistake." She had chided him.

Indeed, it was. He had misjudged her. She was quick and agile and hard to hit. She had successfully dodged each and every one of his blows and when she attacked, she was there one second and gone the next, completely out of reach. She used her feet and her fists and it was undeniable that she was strong. He was still reeling from a few of her blows despite his armor. She knew the weak spots and once she found them, every single hit landed where it hurt the most and did damage.

Once Cosmos had had enough, she called her knight to stop and both warriors backed off. He stood straight and tall and refused to let anyone see how much she had hurt him. To be slighted by a woman who was as beautiful as she was deadly seemed to hurt his pride a lot more than he cared to admit. He licked at the blood that trickled down the corner of his mouth, metallic and sweet, in an effort to hide his wounds.

Everyone seemed to be in awe and a few even cheered the brunette on after the brief battle.

Laguna had cried out, "That's our girl!"

Even the ever aloof warrior, Lightning Farron, smiled and nodded approvingly with her arms folded over her chest. She seemed to have an immense amount of respect for the martial artist named Tifa Lockhart. The pink haired swordswoman did not seem an easy one to please, either.

It was evident; everyone loved the buxom brunette. They all joined her and congratulated her shortly after, patting her on the back, their eyes shining with admiration and love. He stood back and watched in silence, not saying a word.

Tifa seemed to bask in it. Her face lit up with a smile and she suddenly became bashful and demure, so different from the woman who had only recently fought him. He tried to convince himself this was a good thing; she could be a key component in defeating the warriors of Chaos. But he could not help the feeling deep inside of him; it hurt watching it all. It hurt to see Cosmos smile at the girl and stroke her hair lovingly. There was pride in her ice blue eyes as she granted her the blessing.

Had she looked upon him in the same way? What would it take to get his allies to look at him the way they looked at her? He told himself it didn't matter. He had a job to do and he would do it. This was not a popularity contest. To think of such things was selfish and pitiful. And for the longest time, he had brushed those feelings aside as the war between Cosmos and Chaos raged on. He had been fine with it throughout the entire thing. He had put up with many challenges and confrontations with his allies until the very end. It wasn't until that the group had decided to make the ultimate sacrifice that he spoke to the brunette again. She had been the one who approached him.

"I just wanted to thank you." She had spoken shyly, looking at her feet with her hands bound behind her back.

He watched her and the feeling returned, despite thinking he had it buried and forgotten for all that time. Even now, Cosmos had believed in her over him. Even now, his allies had chosen to die next to her; an honor he did not think they would ever deem him worthy of.

"For what?" He asked, not understanding her.

There was some more shuffling, "For standing back and believing in us- for believing in me."

He still couldn't understand her, not really. She chuckled softly then and her cheeks flushed.

"This might come off as silly but, as some of my memories returned...I remember having this absurd childish fantasy of having a knight in shining armor save me when I needed rescuing." She said without meeting his eyes.

"I apologize but I do not understand." He stated formally.

She looked up at him then, brushing away a strand of loose chocolate brown hair from her eyes, "I guess what I'm trying to say is...you sort of fit that description quite perfectly."

"You believe I am a knight in shining armor?" He asked her in his cool and distant voice.

She nodded once before saying, "You certainly do look the part. The world I come from, heroes like you don't really exist...and all my life, I've had to take care of myself. I just thought...wouldn't it be nice if for once, someone else could be brave and strong for me? Just once..."

He stared at the ground and felt like a true failure, "You are mistaken then. I am neither brave nor strong enough to be the hero you speak of."

"Of course you are! You nearly gave me a beating the day we first met! And you were holding back, to top it all off." She laughed at the memory, a day that felt like it had happened years and years ago.

He looked at her then, shocked. Immediately, he felt terrible. He had tried to go easy on her but she had been tough and so he had to put up more of a fight.

"I do apologize, my lady. Under the circumstances, I was forced to attack you." He began to explain.

There was more feet shuffling on her part before she said, "There you go, being all noble and a true gentleman. Then you say you aren't the knight from all those fairytales...I'm having a hard time believing that."

He straightened up and thought it through; all his years as a child, he had dreamed of being like the brave and glorious men they spoke of in legend and stories. Never once had he been told that he was. Never once had he even believed it. Tifa Lockhart was standing before him and telling him that he was the man she dreamt of as a child. Even as the end was nigh for all of them, even though she knew her time here would be lost forever, she smiled at him like a bashful girl and told him he was a hero. He had failed her, failed everyone and yet she still viewed him in such a way.

He wanted to tell her that she was misled. That such was not the case. He wanted to say that even now, she was more of a knight than he ever was his entire life. He wanted to explain to her how envious he was of her skill and of the adoration she received everywhere she went. How even though he was so jealous, he also wanted to be a part of her life. How even he, the true warrior of light, was drawn to her uncomplicated and free nature. But one look at the shine of her eyes when she met his chilling gaze told him it was not wise to break her heart, especially at a time like this. She would not return from this battle and her sacrifice would not even be remembered by most. If the only noble thing he could do was lie to her, then he would give her that. After all, she needed this dream, this belief that he was what she had sought after all her life.

He bowed on one knee and said, "I am honoured, my lady."

He then took one of her hands in his and removed her glove. Soft, pale skin glowed in the moonlight and he noticed how small and fragile her hands were for someone so strong. He brought her hand up to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on the top. He heard her inhale sharply but she didn't move or fight him. When he stood up again, he took notice of the lovely blush on her cheeks and the way she brought the hand he had kissed to her own lips. She was no princess, not of royal blood. One would even say she was a slight tomboy in her personality. But she had the figure that would rival that of a goddess and the class of one of noble birth.

It was the last time he would speak to her. It was the last time he would speak to any of them before they ventured out to make their sacrifice. He almost wished she wouldn't go, he almost wanted to stop her. But it was not his decision to make; it was hers. Even before she headed off, he couldn't rid himself of the guilty feeling he had for letting her go to her own demise. But then she had looked at him with a beautiful smile and waved goodbye, as if she would come back after all of it. She smiled at him like they were good friends parting ways only for now; a promise of a future reunion. It was an empty promise but she wouldn't even allow death to break her spirit.

He was so incredibly envious of her, it burned him. He was so consumed with the feelings she evoked in him, it ate at his spirit. Before they all departed, she approached him one last time and stood up on her toes. She leaned in quick, so close to him he could smell the dizzying scent of her skin and her hair; lavender and pearls. Her lips were soft and warm when they met the skin of his cheek. She lingered for a moment and all time seemed to pause. And then she moved away and her skin was flushed. She could not meet his eyes but she was smiling shyly. And then she turned on her heel and ran off after her already departing comrades.

The Warrior of Light stroked the spot her lips had marked and stared after her disappearing figure. No one seemed to have noticed what she had done. No one but him. And maybe he preferred it this way; it would be his way of keeping her memory alive during the next wave, even long after she had gone. For the first time in a long time, he smiled.

Tifa Lockhart, the only woman capable of making him envious as a warrior and a lover. He would not forget her. Not even when he would return to his own world...

-.-

**A/N: **_There you have it. All the seven deadly sins have been covered! I guess you're assuming that ends the drabble set. Actually, no. :) I'm also going to be covering the seven virtues and the virtues will be drabbles focusing on Tifa and her interactions with the leading ladies! :) Hope you guys enjoyed! All constructive feedback is welcomed. _


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